Somewhere In The Night
by Mrs.Nelly Dean
Summary: Everyone is haunted by ghosts from old,forgotten love affairs. Rachel Berry is no exception. She creat her memories in Lima and took them with her when a tragic twist in her life forced her to tak an unexpected trip to New York. This a stpry about Santana Lopes and all your favourite Glee characters,stages,musicals shows,romances and the only ghost Rcahel can't escape from: Finn.
1. Chapter 1

Prologue.

I think there's one crucial thing you should know in life:  
Eventually,we'll all be haunted by memories. I don't know anyone who isn't. I don't know anyone who doesn't have a story to tell. That's how life works: When we lose sonething,we have something new to add to our story. And unfortunaly,the story of the things we lost is the only one thar we can't rewrite,no matter how much we want. Some people (the realistic ones,the logical ones,the sane ones) simply let their story and their memories and their loss be. They make themselves believe that time will heal the wound,they make themselves believe that time is a reliable thing. They accept the fact that those things were just a chapter in the giant book of their lives. But there are some other people (the insane,the passionate,the ilogical,the crazy ones) that know a little better. We know that time can't not be trusted. We know that those things are not just a chapter. They are the book itself. And we convince ourselves that we are being haunted for a reason. That the story of the lost things remains with us because the final chapter is still unwritten. Because they were always supposed to return to us. And we believe,as firmly as we believe that believing can work miracles,that our mad existences won't have a real meaning until we get them back.  
There a more than five hundred sixty five thousand six hundred types of memories. Memories of the words we should've said when it was the right time,memories of the flowers we should've send before they died,of the letters we should've written before we stopped having someone to send them to. Or,if you are like me,you can have the fifth hundredth sixty fith thousand seventh hudreth type of memories:  
The Ghosts Of A Love Gone By.  
These are,without a doubt,the hardest to deal with. And the most worth fighting Desesperated passion is powerful,in more ways than we'll ever undesrtand.  
The Ghosts Of A Love Gone By generally live in the back of our minds,and they're a peculiar type of memories because we don't recall them from time to time: They are always there. We become our neglected romance,and our neglected romance becomes us. In a quiet,almost unnoticable way. But they do.  
My ghost also lives in the back of my closest,as a football leather jacket,that belonged to the boy I once loved. I still do. It wouldn't be there if I didn't.  
Tonight the room is only iluminated by the street light that sneaks trough the window,and the noise that comes from the New York night is the only soundtrack,apart from my thingers running trough the fabric.  
I'm here to tell my story. About my lost things.  
My stolen jacket.  
My ghost.  
And the love I swore I would recover.


	2. Chapter 1: On My Own

Chapter 1: On My Own  
Rachel's POV  
The bell echoed in the hallway,the auditurium,the class room where I was sitting. I heard the kids around me standing up and making their way out,but I couldn't look up from my Spanish text book. Not until he was gone.  
I heard his steps,his voice,that sounds like he was smiling and waited for it to dissapear along with her laughter. When it faded,I knew they had left.  
I closed my book and looked around. It was becoming a custom,me being the last one in the classroom. Probably because those days,it took me longer than everyone else to walk,to talk,to breathe,to move. Because apart from carrying my own weight,I had to carry my pain. And damn,it was heavy. Not the regular every-day pain all teenagers feel every once in a while. That was the pain that doesn't allow you to think of anything else but how much it hurts. The pain you feel when someone you love leaves you behind. The pain you feel when a Finn Hudson choses a Quinn Fabray over you.  
I shook my head,trying to push those thoughs away. He had never been mine. But he had made me feel that way. He had kissed me...just to return to Quinn's arms the following day,acting like nothing had happened.  
I felt the warm tears behind my eyes. If he had never been mine to lose,then why was I feeling like I missed him? You can't lose something you never had,therefore,you can't miss it. But what I was missing was the dream of ever having him to lose.  
My sight turned blurry and I told myself that I couldn't,I couldn't cry there,not again. I had to get up and go to my car. Once I was there,I would be able to do whatever I wanted. So I stood up,grabbed my books and my pain and walked out.  
In the hallway,everyone was pushing each other. Mercedes and Tina were chatting about some mash-up I should've been interested in. Kurt was about to get slushied,Artie was rolling away from a bunch of scary football players. I should've cared about my friends. But all I could think about as I pretended to read the "to-do list" stuck in my locker were Finn and Quinn,standing behind me. Why were our lockers so close?  
I heard them gigling and walking away with the sound of the bell echoing again as a soundtrack,letting everyone know that it's time to go home. To them,it probably sound like the most romantic song ever. I kndw it because it happened to me when we were together. Because that's what happens when you are in love.  
And when you are heartbroken,every sound,specially the bell letting you know that you're the only not looking forward to go home,the only one not looking forward to go anywhere,sounds like the saddest,slowliest,most emotional version of "On My Own" from Les Miserables.  
I stared at my to-do list until the last teenager abandoned the hall,and I was left alone. I put my back against my locker,letting my body slid down until I was sitting on the floor.  
"This is it" I told myself. "If you are ever going to cry,this is the moment"  
But I couldn't. I couldn't cry like this. Although it did sound very theatrically dramatic to cry alone,with my face buried in my knees,in the empty high school building,I couldn't betray what's left of my dignity that way. I was a performer. And the only cirscuntance where performers throw themselves pitty parties is when they need it to improve their performance.  
I got and walked to the auditurium,the only place of that school where I felt like I belong. Not even the choir room was like that. That day,more than ever,I felt like everyone was simply pretending to like me.  
Being a peformer,an artist who's always searching for perfection in her own way can be a lonely bussines. I've always known that. But I didn't know it would hurt this bad. Then again,I've never though I would have anyone to lose.  
"Well,bad news,Rachel Berry." I though "Losing someone HURTS LIKE CRAP".  
The tears were still trapped behind my eyes. Tears. Being a performer messes up the whole idea of tears. They are supposed to make you feel weak. But tears shed during songs or scenes make us feel good,strong, like fine actors. Maybe because those tears are not completely real. Somewhere along the way,it turns hard to difference those tears from the others,the ones we shed over our pillows or locked in the bathroom. Probably because that difference isn't even that big. Maybe the artistic tears aren't completely real,but in some ways,they are.  
He had taken the part of me that was able to let the feelings go,and had left me just with the sinking,hidden tears that made me feel like a ship destinated to go under. And the only way to solve that,the only way to solve anything,was to sing.  
I finally got to the auditorium,which was darker than the rest of the building. Theaters are always kinda dark,and it suits them. It looks like they're waiting for you to light them up.  
I wasn't not much of an "acapella" singer,but Brad was nowhere to be seem,and my piano knowledge only goes so far.  
Like so many times before,I breathed in,enjoying the sense of the air filling the bottom of my lungs,cause I knew it would led my voice out of my throat,and I would make it sound perfect.  
Singing is a lot like life.  
"On My Own,pretending he's beside me..."  
You look around.  
"All alone,I walk with him till morning..."  
You adjust yourself to the cirscuntances.  
"In the rain,the pavement shines like silver..."  
You take a deep breath  
"But I know,its only in my mind,that I'm talking to myself,and not to him"  
And you try to belt high.  
"Without him,the world around me changes,the trees are bare and everywhere the streets are full of strangers..."  
You try to light the theater up.  
"Without me,his world will keep on turning,a world that's full of happiness,that I have never known"  
But sometimes,I guess,even the brightest voices lose against the shadows.  
"I love him. I love him. But only On My Own..."  
A solitary tear traced its way down my cheek.  
Then I heard someone clapping in the front row.  
Her purple shirt was stucked in her tight skirt and her heels echoed around as she approached the stage. The hair that fell over her shoulders was the same colour as her intense coffee-coloured eyes. The eyes she sharef with me. I still hadn't made up my mind about those 've I liked them,because they remindedme of how similar we are,or should've I hated them,for the same reason?  
Shelby Corcoran. She was one of those people that make their name its own. They make it have power,a special meaning. They turn their names into words that describe no one but themselves.  
When I saw her,I quickly dried my eyes and my nose with my sleeve. No one was allowed to see me showing a weakness that doesn't belong to a character,but to myself. Not even Shelby. Specially Shelby.  
"Brava!" She said "I guess we know who's gonna play Eponine in Broadway's next revival"  
I stared at her,keeping my face serious and struggling to put away my feelings back to where they belong.  
"So,have you decided?" She inquired.  
"Decided,what?" I asked sharply.  
"If you're gonna hate me or not."  
I pursed my lips at her,annoyed that the fact that she treated me like an open book,when I wastrying to be exact opposite.  
"Look,Rachel,I get it" Continued Shelby "I guided you to a tape of me singing an emotional song,then I made you a Lady Gaga costume,and then I adopted your friend's baby. But you are no ordinary girl. You have a gift,and you have to make the most out of it. And if there's someone in Lima that can help you doing that,it's me".  
I kept quiet,but that time was probably because I didn't know what to say.  
"Think about it." She said,before turning her back. "I have a lot to teach,if you wanna learn".  
With that,Shelby Corcoran took her high heels and her freaking confusing eyes out of the auditorium.  
I sat on the edge of the stage and start balancing my legs. Damn,I WAS going to think about. Of course I could use a teacher like her. But even if I let her,I couldn't allow myself to depend on her. I have to be my own ticket to the train of the stars. I knew that now.  
Maybe I would accept her offer. Maybe I wouldn't. But no matter what,there's one thing I was sure about:  
If was gonna be on my own,I was gonna take the most out of it.


	3. Chapter 2: Those Fcking Cheerleaders

Chapter 2: Those f*cking cheerleaders.  
Rachel's POV  
I got into my car and turned on the stereo. My original Broadway cast recording Wicked CD was still on. I liked to switch CDs every week,and I also liked putting the windows down and singings at the top of my lungs,but I was too distracted to do any of that.  
The sunset light hit my face and that's when I realized I hadspent hours inside the auditorium. The sky over my small hometown,Lima,Ohio was turning pale purple. I wondered if I was ever going to see the sky turning pale purple over some other place in the world. If I was ever going to see New York's pale purple sky,and if I was ever going to stand above a pale purple sky feeling happy again.  
"Shit,Rachel,you sound like Barbra in The Way We Were. Get over yourself Enough with all this oh-poor-poor-me crap"  
I had to say this kind of things to myself every once in a while,since I grew up in a house were no one dared to be that harsh,or that honest with me. And we all need someone to be hard with us sometimes. We all need someone who opens our eyes and make us accept the truth,even if we don't want to.  
My dads. I realized that I didn't want to go home,because they would ask me how my day had been,and I would have to lie,and although I was extraordinary good at that,I didn't wanna lie to them. Yes,they might had never told me that high school is hell for everyone who's the least bit different,they might had never told me that boys were going to pick cheerleaders over me,they might had never told me that I was going to get slushied,they might had never told me that growing up is tough or that some days,life simply sucks. I might had had to learn all that the hard way. But they were still my family. And they were probably the only ones who really liked me.  
I drovedown the streets of Lima,with Elphaba and Glinda's voice as my only company.  
I had heard all the last names written on the mailboxes infront of the houses,at school,at the grocery shop,at the ballet club. Everyone knew each other in Lima. But that didn't keep me from feeling invisible. They knew my name,not my story. Theh know where I lived,but not my life.  
There are certain towns,like that one,that seem to remain untouch by time. Children grow up,teenagers grow up too and start working,or,in the best cases,going to the community college. Parents become grandparents. But the cobbled streets are always the same. They seem to be the stages of so many scenes: People walking and laughing,kisses under the rain,fights and arguements,cryings. declarations of love. I wondered if they will ever be the stage of any important scene of mine.  
Friendly reminder: When you are driving around,making deep,philosophical reflexions about cobbled streets,it's a good idea to actually look at them.  
There was a tall boy standing infront of my car,and I happened to almost hit him.  
"Oh My God! Oh My God! Oh My God"  
I screamed as I rushed out. The boy was leaning over the car,but he seemed to be fine.  
"Are you okay?! God,did I hurt you?!"  
The boy stood up straight and looked at me. The light of the streetlights was low,but still I recognized Finn's eyes.  
"Jeez,calm down,Rach. You didn't even touch me".  
It's amazing how some people have the power to change whatever emotion your feeling in that moment into anger and an urge to slap them. Love,also. Mostly anger and the urge to slap them,but there's a bit of that weird thing too. I guess they come together.  
"What the fuck are you doing?!" I screamed as I tried to push him away from my car and from myself,but obviously,he didn't even move one centimeter.  
"I needed to talk to you"  
"Oh,right,and that's why you get in my way so I can hit you and kill you"  
"You would love that,wouldn't you?" He chuckled.  
"Um,yeah!"  
"I knew you wouldn't listen to me if you weren't feeling guilty because you almost murdered me"  
"Oh,trust me Finn,I'm feeling lots of things and I can swear none of them is anywhere close to guilt."  
I opened the door wishing to go away and hit him that time,but he tool me by the shoulders and forced me to stare at him.  
"Can you please,please,just listen to me for a minute?"  
Ugh. Those goddamned puppy eyes.  
"Not a minute. You have 40 seconds. Go"  
"Okay. Here it goes: I'm sorry,Rachel. I really am. I shouldn't have given you expectations. Truth is,I think you're cool. You are a little spoiled,you're competitive,you work too hard,and you speak a lot,mostly about yourself..."  
"I hope you're going somewhere with this" I snap at him.  
"...but the thing is,despite all those things,I still believe you're amazing. You're funny,and smart,and pretty,and you're one hell of a singer. I didn't want to hurt you. But...I'm in love with her,Rachel. You understand,right? I...love her"  
Finn Hudson loved Quinn Fabray. Of course I understood. Cause I love Finn Hudson. And I hated him too. They come together.  
"Why?" I asked.  
"What do you mean 'why'?"  
"Why do you love her?"  
"Well,um...I don't know. It's hard to explain."  
"No it isn't. It's not because she's pretty or smart or funny,because you've just said those things about me too. So there's only one option: It's because she's a popular cheerleader"  
"No,dont-"  
"Goodbye,Finn"  
I set myself free and got into the car,but he stock his head trough the open window.  
"Wait,don't go-"  
"YES I'M GOING,FINN! We're done here,okay? I'm not having this conversating with you. I though you were better than this"  
"What's so wrong about cheerleaders?"  
"It's just the idea of the cheerleaders"  
I sigh "Girls in short skirts,shaking pompoms,chosen by their looks,telling guys that they're great"  
Although I did believe what I was saying,that was not the reason why I was so mad.  
"Guess what,darling" I continued "Cheerleaders? They're so not gonna be here forever. In a few years we will all finish high school and those fucking cheerleaders won't be in your life anymore! So my advice is that you should get your ideas in order,take a look around,and realize which things matter,cause this is it,this is your goddamned life,and it can't depend only on cheerleaders!"  
I pushed him out and turn the keys. My heart was pounding and I felt rage stinging my chest as I wiped a tear from my cheek.  
He loved her.  
Oh,those fucking cheerleaders.


	4. Chapter 3: Door At The End Of The Hall

Chapter 3: The Door At The End Of The Hallway  
My hands were shaking when I pulled into the driveway. I slowly hit my head against the window a few times. What the hell had I just done? What was I thinking? I shouldn't have opened myself up like that,even if it was just with my honest opinion about cheerleaders and a stupid rant about high school boys. Now I was even more vulnerable than before. Just perfect.  
I blamed it on Finn. He had that something. He made me vulnerable. He saw me in ways no one had ever seen me before. And what did I do? I handed him my heart in a silver plate saying: "Here is my intimacy and my soul. Please grind them into hamburger and enjoy".  
"I hate to love" I though as I opened the front door.  
A quiet melody was crying from our black baby grand,backgrounding an enthusiastic conversartion about Liza Minelli's last public appearence.  
My dads were home.  
"Sweetheart,you're late!" Said my dad n•1 from the kitchen when I walked in.  
"Sorry. Glee practise" I replied,giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.  
"Ah,Glee Club! How's that going?"  
"Alright I guess"  
"Uh huh?" He raised an eyebrow,having noticed my lack of interest in having any conversation. "What solo are we gonna hear you sing in this year's Sectionals?"  
"Dunno"  
I headedout,all that I wanted was to lock in my room and hide under my bed for a few years until I figure out what to do with myself.  
"Where are you going?" My dad n•2 intercepted me halfway trough the hall. "We're gonna eat rissotto and perform some Chicago numbers! It's your favourite".  
"It's actually your favourite." I felt a shot of guilt after saying it when I saw the dissapointed look on his face. "Maybe tomorrow,okay? I have a lot to study. Big test tomorrow".  
"Fine. Don't stay up late".  
I ran upstairs and closed the door of my bedroom behind me.  
My bedroom. Many people had laughed at me because of me,Puck,more than once. He hag a point,though: It was not what you'd call a 'hot' place to make out in. I knew it could pass for the bedroom of a girl much younger than me (a young girl who liked Broadway shows and had posters of them in every wall).  
It was little too pink and a little too inmature,but who cared? That was my secret way to admit that I was still a little insecure about becoming an adult. All teenagers are. They're afraid of growing up,because even if you were a big dreamer like me,we couldn't know for sure what the future holds. Right now,the word "future" was a synonim of "uncertainty",and the only thing certain was that I was a hot mess.  
I lay in my bed and opened my laptop infront of me. There was a message from Kurt:  
"Hey Rachel! Mercedes and I are gonna go shopping tomorrow. All my shows are already from last season. Wanna tag along?"  
"I don't know,Kurt. I'll think about it. But thanks" I typed.  
"What's going on with you?"  
"Nothing. I'm bussy"  
"Yeah,sure"  
"I'm fine"  
"That's the most used phrase by people who are defitnily not fine."  
I closed my laptop before allowing the conversation to go on.  
No,I wasn't fine. But that didn't mean I wanted to talk about it. I liked Kurt,and I knew he meant well. It simply annoyed me that he couldn't understand that there were some things that I liked to keep to myself,and that I didn'y need to discuss everything to death. It made me feel weak. It made me feel like the victim I no longer wanted to play.  
I didn't want to ask for help. I wanted to be my own savior,because I didn't know a lot,but I knew one thing: You can't count on no one but yourself.  
I'd better get used to the idea that nobody could be fully trust. Because that was it: People dissapoint you,people lie,people leave you behind. The wounds wouldn't heal just because I talked about them. Sometimes we just have to let them be. Wait until they stop hurting so much. Wait until they become scars,ghostes of a long-gone pain that still lingers over our skin from time to time.  
Damage is unevitable. All we can do is try to get damaged for the right reasons.  
Hearts get broken,and life doesn't stop to wait for anyone while they fix them. All we can do is try to get our hearts broken by the right person.  
I could almost feel the wreckages inside my chest before falling into a dreamless sleep.

If there's anything I had learnt in those high school hallways,is that sometimes,the crowdest places are the loneliest ones.  
I felt uncomfortable when I passed by the place where I had been sitting in the day before. It wss like the tears hadn't dry yet,and they were still there,on the white floor,waiting for someone to notice them.  
The door to the choir room was at the end of the hallway. If you think about it,and I often did, we all have "that" door. The door that offers you a path of the crowded and lonely place,the door that leads you to a place where,even just for a while,you feel like you belong. You know you're not a mistake. It doesn't mean anything changes,though: You're still a misfit. You're still a freak show. You're still a loser. But proudly so.  
We are all supposed to have a door at the end of the hallway.  
As usual,I was the first one to arrive. The sit infront of the piano was still empty and nothing about that week assigment had been written in the board yet.  
I sat on the back and waited for everyone to arrive.  
Brittany and Santana came in,gigling and whispering as always. Then Blaine and Kurt. I rolled my eyes when I saw they were holding hands. Why? I was not an anti-romantic. In fact,I was pretty much of a hopeless romantic.  
Look where that had brought me.  
Mercedes,Tina,Mike,Puck,Quinn.  
Finn.  
I staref at the point of my knees where my socks ended,trying to avoid eye contact. If anyone was able to see the tears on the floor besides my locker,that washim.  
"You are my door at the end of the hallway" The whisper escaped from my lips before I had time to stop it.  
Everyone turned in their seats to stare at me.  
"Is there anything you wanna share with us,Rachel?"Asked ,who had just walked in.  
"Um...no" I stuttered,feeling like my friend's eyes were making holes all over my body.  
For the first time in my life,I sank in my chair,wishing that I could be as small as I felt,so the looks wouldn't get to me.  
"Okay then" Said ,turning to the board.  
When he movef again,there were two words written in it:  
BEING ENOUGH.  
"As always,I have no clue where you're going with this" Saids Santana "But if with 'being enough' you mean 'having enough fat in your body',I beg you not to worry about it,because with Squeashy Tits over here,I think we got that covered".  
Long ago, had chosen to ignore Santana's bitchy comments,but I couldn't help chuckling this time. Because,from my experience,love and hate (specially the part of hate that involves anger and revenge) came together.  
"We've already talked about how the greatest songs come from pain" He continued "What differences the artists who sing this songs from each other is what kind of pain they talk about. Many talk about the pain that comes with love problems,but very few talk about how much it hurts when the one you don't feel okay with is yourself. So that's what WE are gonna talk about. How many of you feel like you're good enough?"  
"I didn't pay for a therapy session,thank you very much" I snapped. tended go too far. He understood people too well. He had way to see trough us,to discover things and feelings about ourselves we didn't even know we had. But that time,I did know what I feel. I just had never though I would feel it. And it made me uncomfortable to think that someone else was more honest about my own feelings than me.  
It surprised me to see 12 hands raising. I looked around in confussion.  
Even the fiery Santana and the badass Noah had raised theirs.  
grinnef,pleased with the result of his little speech.  
"Your assigment for this week is to find a song that will help you get that stupid idea out of your minds. Because who gets to determinate where 'good' starts being 'good enough'?..."  
Unvoluntary,I looked at the tall boy with the handsome half-smile in the leatherman football jacket. At least I knrw who determinated it for me.  
"...So,you're gonna stand right here infront of every and delight us all with your solo. And apart from that,now that Sectionals are close,we gotta keep these in mind: If they told us we're not enough,then we're gonna make ourselves enough"  
I gave a confident nod. As always, was one step ahead  
of me.  
"Make myself enough"  
"Make myself enough"  
"Make myself enough"  
The phrase echoed in my mind all the hour long,until I heared the bell ringing.  
That time,I didn't turn around to watch Finn taking Quinn's hand to their Biology class.  
I walked with Kurt and Mercedes with the friendlist smile I could show.  
"Hey guys" I grinned"Are you still up for that shopping today?"  
"Yeah" Said Mercedes "Wanna tag along?"  
"Uh huh. I think I want to have a little make over".


	5. Chapter 4: People Like Us

Chapter 4: People Like Us  
"I'm in" Read the text message I had just sent to Shelby.  
"Auditurim at 4:00"Read the reply.  
I swore I could see her smile through my sparkling cell phone.  
It was weird that I hadn't tell that to anyone,not even Kurt. But I just couldn't. They needed to believe that all my focus was on Sectionals now. If I told them that I was having private lessons with Shelby they would feel betrayed,and that was the least thing I wanted anyone to feel,now that I knew how much it hurted. Life wasn't supposed to hand that kind of things to you,was kt? I though that it wasn't supposed to be that hard.  
I guess that for me,it didn'y matter what it was supposed to be. Today I had realized that I had 2 options: I could just let it be,or I could adjust myself to this. I could make myself enough.  
Finn wanted cheerleaders? Then he was gonna get a cheerleader.  
I put my cell phone in my pocket amd walked out to the parking where Mercedes and Kurt were waiting for me.  
"Explain me again why you want to find the most similar thing to a Cheerio uniform" She demanded as she opened the passenger's door.  
"Because,Mercedes,I decided to re invent myself"  
"But you hate cheerleaders"  
"Right. I do. Whatever. I hate cheerleaders,but the thing is,almost everyone in this school hates what I am now. And I can't exactly blame them. Who would like a girl who dreams too much,who has only her voice and her talent to rely on,whose life has been nothing but a lonely to the too since day one? No one. It would be so much easier if only person disliked me,even if that person is me. And if to achieve that,I have to tie my hair in a pony tail so high that it looks like a unicorn's horn and fit into a extremely provocative dress that makes my legs be even shorter,so be it. "  
My speech was followed by a few seconds of silence that were finally broken by Kurt's voice,unmistankingly stained with dissapointment:  
"I never though I would hear you of all people saying something like that"  
"Yeah well,lately I've found out that I tend not to be what people wanted" I reply sharply.  
But what I really meant was "Me neither". And in that moment,I understood it. I understood why they are so many plays,books and films completely dedicated to this feeling. To being in love. I understood why it never seems or sounds real on those. I understood why we all end up hating fairy tales as soon as we grow up,I understood why the people had spent years trying to find sense in the most pure nonsense in the history of humanity: Love.  
Love can be good,or so it is said. But,as everything that makes you smile,it also haves the power to make you cry. That's why is so scary. That's why is so hard to define. Because when love comes to you,there's no possible to know if it's gonna play nice to you. Love isn't something with a definition,because it's our job,every person's job,to find one of our own. Love can save you as easily as it can destroy you. So far,it was destroying me.  
Kurt had been talking that whole time,although I only got to hear the last few sentences:  
"...you know I care about you Rachel,but I refuse to support you in this. You're a hot mess. And you will be nothing but that until you admit that you need some help!"  
"I don't need your help!" I screamed "In fact,I don't need anyone's help! So if you're gonna go all drama queen on me about this,I'm not gonna beg you to come with us"  
He didn't answer. He just gaved me a look that I knew well. That was the way he looked at people who threw him slushies,at homophobes,or at anyone who had a quality that,to his eyes,made them less human. That was the deepest look of hurt and sadness I haf ever seen in anyone's face.  
I had never though he would give me that look.  
He nodded silently a few times before storming out of the car. Mercedes was staring at her shoes,bitting her lower lip. Maybe that was okay. But with time,I had come to the realization that silence can betray you as easily as words can.  
"Are you coming?" I demanded.  
She nodded a few times. "Someone's gotta keep an eye on you"  
I shut my mouth,knowing that I couldn't amswer something like "Jeez,thanks" or "I can take care of myself,thank you very much". Poor Mercedes had done no wrong.  
I drove silently to the only shopping mall in Lima. None of us dared to start a conversation,and anyways,I was too busy trying to figure out where I could find a McKinley Cheerio uniform.  
"I know a place where you can find second-hand school stuff. Maybe we'll find what you're lookinv for there" SaidMerceds when we pulled into the parking,as she had been reading my thoughs.  
"Perfect" I faked a smile for her.  
She gave me an unsure grin back and leaded me to the small shop she was talking about. There was not much in there. I quickly looked away when I spot the leather football jackets.  
I would say that it's funny how they reminded me to a certain person,but I couldn't,because if they reminded,I would've to forget him first. And that certain person was one of those things you simply don't forget,not even for a second. He was always in my mind. Not as a cheesy loving memory but as a part of who I was.  
After going trough piles of old clothes for fifteen minutes,I came across a decoulored Cheerio uniform.  
"Do you think I should try it on?"  
I asked Mercedes,although it was obviously too big for me (like almost everything).  
"I don't know,Rach...you know you're not even in the team,right?"  
"Minor detail. I'll figure it out" I said as I walked into the tiny dressing room,already sure that I was taking it.  
"So...we're done here,aren't we?" Asked Mercedes as soon as we get out of the shop.  
"Nope. Just one more stop"  
She forced a smile that dissapeared instantly as soon as she found out that we were walking towards the hairdresser's.  
"You're getting a haircut?" She asked.  
"Sort of. I'll dye it."  
"You WHAT?!"  
"I'll dye it. Blonde"  
She shool her head several times and grabbed me by the shoulders,so I was forced to look her in the eye.  
"Enough,Rachel. You're totally insane. Okay,maybe I would let you go around with a ridicously oversized Cheerio uniform,but I won't let you dye your hair blonde just because you think it will make you look cooler! USE THAT GODDAMNED BRAIN GOD GAVE YOU. Pretending to be someone you're not won't make Finn fall for you!"  
I stared at her with wide eyes.  
"How...how do you know?"  
She sighed and lessen the strength over my shoulders.  
"Everyone knows,sweetie. You can see it"  
I focused my sight on the ground,fighting back the tears.  
"I don't need you to feel sorry for me" My whisper grew louder "And I defitnily do not need your opinion or your permission to dye my freaking hair".  
I regreted it the second after I saif it,but she gave me no time to apologise.  
"Fine. I'll take the bus home."  
With that,she walked away,leaving me alone with the pain everyone knew about and the omniprescent tears.  
The big clock of the mall marked 4:00.  
"Shit" I ran out of the place and into  
my car.  
Mercedes words echoed in my mind:  
"Everybody knows,sweetie. You can see it"  
I was a good actress. Why couldn't I pretend that I was not desesperately,deeply,truly,madly in love with Finn? Maybe I could hide it if that wasn't a crazy,passionately painful kind of love. And maybeif I hadn't used the words "desesperately,deeply,truly,madly" I could believe that that wasnt a crazy,passionately kind of love.

People turned around to stare at me and my old uniform when I walk McKinley's hallways. Although I tried to ignore them,I could see Puck frowns at me until I was out of sight.  
The auditurium was dark,but not as dark as usual since Shelby wss already there,going trough some music sheets over the piano with her back to me.  
"Hey" I said  
"Hello Rachel" She grinned,without stopping what she was doing "I was thinking that we could start with a couple of vocalizing and then with 'Whispers' from Spring Awakening"  
"Sounds good"  
"I know" She turned around and stood frozen,studying me from head to toes for several seconds. I realized it was because of the second-hand torn dress I had on.  
"Since when are you a Cheerio?"  
She asked  
"Umm...I'm not a Cheerio yet. But I'm planning to"  
"Why?"  
"People like cheerleaders"  
Shelby sighed and returned to her music sheets.  
"We're not doing any vocalizing until you take that off"  
"I'm just trying to become a better version of myself! You of all people should understand that!" I screamed. I regreted it for a moment,thinking that it was disrespectful to speak to my teacher like that. But then I remembered she was more than that.  
When Shelby turned around again and penetrated me with her eyes. Her eyes made me feel like I already knew what she would say even before she opened her mouth:  
"What makes you think that this is a better version of yourself? Or even a version of yourself?"  
I held her look,not knowing what to answer,but not wanting to look away either.  
"What's Barbra Streisand's moto,Rachel?"  
Now,that question took me by surprise.  
"She has like five hundred twenty five thousand motos"  
"Tell me one"  
I inmediatly thougj of the most certain truth that was ever spoken:  
"'Art does not only exist to entertain,but also to challenge one to think,to provoke,and even to disturb,in a constant search for the truth"  
Shelby smiled despite her dramatic expression. She was probably the only person in the world who didn't find the fact that I knew Barbra Streisand quotes by heart weird.  
"Nice. But I was hoping you would one of this ones"  
She took a ink-stained piece of paper from her pocket,and I wonderef if she always kept it with her. Therewere two short quotations written in it:  
'I guess if you have an original take on life,or something about is original,you don't have to study people who came before you. You don't have to mimic anybody. You just have a gut-feeling inside,an instict that tells you what's right for you and you can't do it any other way'  
'To achieve change,we must speak up. Every voive is important'.  
"I guess that what's Barbra is trying to say here is that we should all find our own voice,not try to copy someone else's because we think it will make us more likable...don't you think?" Her voice was softer now as she put her hand on my shoulder.  
"Why are helping me with this? You're only suppose to improve my talent. Not my teenage dramas and my emotional life"  
She chuckled and tuckef my hair behind my ear.  
"Can't you see it,darling? They're the same. Our voice is who we are. Our voice is made out of our scars,our heart breaks,our battle wounds. For people like us,art is voice our pain itself and the way to heal it."  
I looked at her with moisty eyes.  
"I want to be pretty. I want to be skinny. I want people to like me. I want to be enough,for fuck's sake!"  
Shelby pursed her lips and put the quotations back on her pocket.  
"I know it hurts you to feel like you are not what anyone wants,or what anyone needs,but the worst part is that you can't even be what you want,or what you need. And this" She nodded at the Cheerio uniform "It's not what you need. What you need is your find you own voice. Maybe you don't think it's something pretty or somethig people would like,and I'm sorry,but that's all you got. I can sure as hell tell you that is more than enough".  
It would've been easy to believe her. So I chose to.  
"Um...I'm gonna go take this off"  
"I'll be waiting here"  
The pleased smile on her face wad almost contagious.  
I turned around halfway out of the audituriom.  
"Shelby?"  
"Yeah?"  
"How come you know some much about...those feelings?"  
"...we're much more similar than you think,Rach. I was that girl. I was the girl who didn't belong. I was the girl in the corner of the room. I was the girl who hid behind her locker and avoived mirrors. I was loneliest and the mlst damaged. But now I'm the wisest.  
Anyways, it's our differences what I'm more excited about"  
"Our differences?"  
"Uh huh. You're a lot more like our old friend Barbra,for instance"  
"Seriously?"  
"Seriously. You are a fierce. Your ambition pushes you forward. You're brave. Now you just need to be wise too. That's why I'm here for you. To help people like me. People like us"


	6. Chapter 5: Get It Right

Chapter 5: Get It Right  
That day,I didn't even looked at the spot where my tears had fallen while walking towards the choir room. I had just came back from a vocal lesson with Shelby and my mind,usually overwhelmed with flashbacks and echoes and memories and broken promises,only had space for piano notes and song lyrics. She was making me hit notes and I didn't even know existed,and analysed every character we played. Their emotions,thoughs,backgrounds and experiences: She knew it all. That's when I started to feel just a little bit better.  
Maybe understanding fictional characters helps you to understand real people. And living in a world where everyone simply breaks into singing and dancing,even for a short while,defitnily helps you to understand the real world. Deal with it,at least.  
Puck was standing outside the door,waiting for someone. It couldn't have ocurred to me that I was the one he was waiting for.  
He took me by the arm when I was about to walk past him.  
"Hey,Rachel...I'm glad you're done with that cheerleading crap" He said,nodding at my usual dress and knee-high socks.  
"What do you give a damn about my outfit?" I snap,almost unvoluntary "You don't even like me."  
"Come on,don't go all bitchy on me. We Jewish Glee kids gotta stick together."  
I didn't reply. He gave me a pat in the shoulder and turned to me one last time before walking in:  
"You know...you're not always an outsider. Not in here. This is our place. Where we can feel safe and we belong. You too. We might not always like you...but we sure love you."  
When I sat,I took a look around that well-known room. At Brittany and Santana,gigling as they inventes dance moves. At Puck,playing with his guitar strings. At Finn sitting behind the drums. It ocurred to me that maybe it was true. Maybe they loved me,although none of them was talking to me or paying me any sort of attention. Caring about someone doesn't mean that you have to touch them and hug them and talk to them all day long. I think that in this case,it simply meant that we loved every single piece of the world behind the choir room's door. We loved the fact that is was only ours. And we loved the fact that it wasn't normal or perfect,because none of us were.  
Have ever wondered if anyone would notice if someday,let's say,you went missing? I did. And as creepy as it may sound,it actually feels pretty good when you realize they would.  
The people behind the choir room's door would notice. Even if they didn't like me much.  
My thoughs were interrumpted when came in and asked if anyone had prepared a song for that week's assigment.  
To my surprise,and I'm guessing everyone else's,the first hand raised belonged to Quinn.  
"Alright then!" Said "Show us what you got".  
Quinn stood up and leaned over the piano.  
"This is a song written by one of our fellow Glee clubers" She said "It inspired and helped me more than you imagine."  
The piano man started playing and Quinn talked directly to me.  
"I hope you don't mind me borrowing it,Rachel"  
My jaw dropped. Quinn's soft,desesperatly sweet voice draw the words of that one song. That one song that belonged only to me.  
'What have I done,I wish I could run...'  
Confussion and anger and relief and admiration and frustation started fighting inside my chest.  
Her good was good enough.  
Nothing she touched tumbled down.  
Her best intentions didn't make a mess our of nothings.  
She didn't need to fix anything.  
She had it all.  
Why was she singing my song? My song. My deepest confession.  
Maybe it was sad. I won't deny it. That's a sad song. But it was true. And that's truth. Truth is often sad,cause life is often sad,and maybe that's okay. Pain is a part of life. And that's okay. Maybe pain is there for a reason,after all. Pain is what pushes us forward. Pain is what makes us look for a change or for a reason to be happy. Pain reminds that it doesn't have to be this way.  
I get along with the pain. Because pain has a a way of reminding me I can heal. The only way to stand pain isn't knowing that it could be worse. The only way to stand pain is knowing it could be better. It WILL be better.  
Let the pain remind you you can heal.  
Pain makes some of sort of sense.  
Now,what didn't make sense,was having a girl like Quinn singing about it.  
She had it all.  
Blonde hair,skinny legs,that short red dress that would surely look torn and old on me. Finn.  
She had it all.  
The song finished and the rooom bursted into aplauses. Unlike the sad ballad always playing inside my ming,hers was followed by aplauses. Not all songs are.  
Song,aplauses,bell. Sad ballad on the background. I was getting used to it.  
Everyone started making their way out,but Quinn didn't move from her place besides the piano and I didn't move from my chair.  
"Was that okay?" She asked when we were finally alone.  
"Do I look like it was okay?" I ask back,giving her the death stare.  
She sighed (like I was the exasperating one).  
"You know,it doesn't have to be this way. We don't have to hate each other,Rachel."  
'Don't you get it?' I wanted to say 'That's the problem,I don't hate you. How could I? You're brave,you're a good singer,you're smart,you're nice and you're so pretty it hurts. I don't hate you. I just pretend I do because it's easier than admiting that I'm jealous. It's easier than admiting that you're all I want to be'  
But I still couldn't express feelings that didn't belonged to fictional characters. So I chose to say:  
"I simply don't understand why you from all people would sing something like that".  
Quinn walked away from the piano to seat beside me and I resisted the impulse to pull my chair away.  
"You think I can't relate to that?" She inquired,staring at me with those big green eyes.  
"Honestly,no,I don't"  
"Everyone has a story to tell. Do you think you are the only one? Everyone has scars. We just don'y wear them all on the outside"  
"Scars? Seriously? You're gonna lecture me about scars?"  
Quinn didn't answer.  
"Is this about the Lucy Capoosy thingy?" I asked.  
"It is..."  
"That was a long time ago" I'm not sure if I was trying to comfort her or make her feel guilty.  
"So what?" She almost screamed "Moving on is not as easy as everyone makes us believe,is it? Most scars dissapear with time,leaving nothing behind but a mark in your skin. But some of them don't. Some of them still hurt,even though the wound is long gone. Forgive and forget only go so far"  
I remained silent,probably because I didn't know what to say. I knew how miserable Quinn had been,in time gone by. I though she would get over it,now that she had everything I had to live without . But I guess those kind of things,like desesperated love of dissaperated sadness or desesperated hope, aren't a matter of time. Time is much more complicated than it seems. Time is,indeed,too complicated to be measured just in minutes or hours or years. Time doesn't work exactly the way we think it does. As a theatre girl,I knew. We all came to wonder that eventually,because we feel it every day:  
Those 2 seconds before the curtain raises are way longer than any other 2 seconds.  
There's no doubt time is a tricky thing.  
It had tricked Quinn,and it would obviously tricked me.  
"I'm sorry that you hate me." She muttered.  
A nervous,sad laugh came out of my mouth.  
"I don't hate you" I admited "Trust me,I've tried."  
She shook her head and sighed again.  
"Good. I know there are a million reasons for you to hate me,but there other million not to. I don't have it all,Rachel" She said,as she had been reading my life the hole time. "For God's sake,I got pregnant! My parents kicked me out!"  
I stared at the floor. Nothing like that had ever happened to me.  
That completely ruined my theory that life doesn't suck for pretty people. Life had sucked for Quinn.  
That's life,isn't it? The most beautiful eyes have cried the most tears and the prettiest smiles hide the biggest pain and the deepest secrets.  
Forgive,forget,move on...that's what they say.  
I was starting to think Quinn deserved Finn. Broken people deserve fixers. Finn was a fixer. One hell of a fixer.  
Good people deserve good things. Quinn and Finn were good people.  
Amazing people.  
And I wasn't. I didn't deserve good things and I didn'y deserve a fixer. Because my damages were far beyond repair.  
I had to let him go. They say love is putting someone else's happines before yours. And God knows I loved him.  
If he was happy with Quinn...so be it.  
"Do you-um...do you think we could be friends?" I stutter.  
Quinn chuckled at my childlish insecurennes.  
"Yeah. I would love that"  
"Okay" I forced a smile "See you" I said,desesperated to get out of that place. The place where I had decided I was saying goodbye to him.  
"See you" She replied with a grin.  
I gave her a quick hug and ran out.  
I didn't stop to think where I was going to. I just ran. It's okay to wander around withoit direction from time to. Sometimes we need to get a little lost in order to find ourselves.  
My feet took me outside the building and I ended up leaning against a brick wall below a classroom's window.  
I'm not sure how much time I spent there. It could've been 2 minutes or 2 hours.  
I was saying goodbye. I was turning my head and walking away,hoping someday I would be lucky enough to forget and knowing that it wasn't possible. Because time and love don't get along,and forgetting isn't always voluntary.  
I didn't cry though. Not one tear was shed while I was leaning against that door below that classroom's window.  
I was sick and tired of those bitches. Love and tears do get alone,unfortunaly. But I was saying goodbye. So I just standed there,stroking my own arms and mouthing that word:  
"Goodbye,goodbye,goodbye"  
Until it stopped meaning anything.  
Suddenly,I realized I wasn't alone. There were two people hiding on the classroom behind me. We were only separated by a wall. And...were those kissing noises?  
Human curiosity forced me to stand in my tiptoes and look trough the window. Human curiosity should've remained quiet. Because I saw no one else but Brittany and Santana,making out in the empty classroom,with their lips attached to each others.  
I wanted to go away and pretended that never happened ,but it was too late. Santana spot me,and just for a second,our eyes met:  
I still can't forget the look on her dark eyes. How they turned from passionate to desesperated.  
And when that second ended,I turned my back and walk back into the building.  
Santana and Brittany. Brittany and Santana. Of course. How could I've been so blind? They were always together. Brittany was the only one who wasn't attacked by Santana's sharp tongue. Santana founded everything Brittany did adorable. And most importantly,whenever someone sang a love song in the Glee Club,they hold pinkies and looked at each other with shiny eyes.  
I knew I wouldn't tell anyone. I respected both of them too much. But Santana didn't. Should I tell her their secret was safe? Or should I pretend that nothing happened?  
Then I bumped into Shelby in the middle of the hall.  
"Wow! Someone's a little distracted" She said,picking up the folder I had made her drop.  
"Yeah,I-Um,sorry" I stuttered.  
"It's okay" Shelby gave me a suspicious look. "Were you going home already? Because I have one last song I would like to practice with you"  
"Sure,sure" I replied,still with my head in...the other subject.  
"Okay then"  
I swear it was like she had a giant question mark on her face.  
We walked to the auditurium in silence.  
"So,what do you have for me?" I asked when we got there.  
Shelby sat infront of the piano and ran her fingers trough the keys.  
"West Side Story."  
"But we did that today..."  
"I know. You do a great Maria,but you need some help with your Spanish pronunciation."  
"Is here?"  
Shelby smiled and prepared her music sheets.  
"Not exactly. I brought one of your friends"  
One of my friends? I only knew one hispanic person and that person was...oh,no.  
"Hola,Berry"  
Santana. I couldn't look at her after what I had just done. I felt too guilty. I shouldn't have poked my head,I should've minded my own bussinnes and stay away from the freaking window.  
I turned to Shelby. "I wasn't planning to tell anyone we were doing this."  
I snapped,giving her the death stare.  
"Could you give us a minute, ?" Asked Santana before she could answer.  
"No problem" Shelby stood up and got out.  
Santana was standing a few meters away,with her arms crossed against her chest. The way she bitted her lower lip was the only thing that delated her nerves.  
The seconds that passed before she spoke seemed eternal.  
"Well well,it looks like we both have dirty secrets to keep,don't we?" She said "Here's thing,dwarf: If you tell anyone about me and Brittany,I'm gonna tell everyone about your stupid vocals lessons with your mommy,and about how obviously uninterested you are in your team and our upcoming competition,and then I'll kill you. Got it?"  
I couldn't help sighing in relief.  
"Got it."  
"Good"  
"But as a matter of fact,I wasn't planning to tell anyone. I would never do that to you,Santana,or to anyone really. You forget that I'm the child of two gay dads. And if you repeat this,I'll deny it,but I actually like you. And Brittany"  
Her expression didn't turn any friendlier. Then she said something that I,with my limitates Spanish knowledges,couldn't understand:  
"Tu tambien me agradas,enana"  
"What?"  
"Nothing,Berry."  
Shelby walked back in.  
"Are you girls ready?" She asked.  
"Yeah"  
Santana got closer to get one of the music sheets Shelby was handing her and I pretended I couldn't smell Brittany's perfume over her skin or see the stain of her lipstick on her lips.


	7. Chapter 6: Just A Little Brokem

Chapter 6: Just A Little Broken  
During the next few weeks,I started feeling a little bit better. You know those weird peaceful mornings that come after stormy nights? Once all the trees have beel blown down and all the streets have been flooed and you realize who were the ones strong enough to keep on their feet? I guess it was pretty much like that.  
Santana never left our lessons after that West Side Story practice. She stayed for one afternoon,and then another,and another until Shelby amd I understood that La Señorita Lopez was here to stay.  
I had never had one rehearsal buddy before,and as odd as it may sound,we seemed to be a good team,Santana and I. That's the beauty of the stage. Things happen up there that couldn't have happened anywhere else. Except maybe the choir room.  
Our voices,that had usually just exchanged sarcastic and even cruel comments to each other,worked together in beautiful duets as if they had been made for that.  
And although I was still pretending I didn't notice the scent of Brittany in every inch of her skin,or the way her usual voice turned into her singing voice when she called her name (like mine's probably did when I said 'Finn') ,and she was still pretending none of that was happening as soon as she abandoned the auditurium every day at 6:00 pm after a two hour lesson,we started to change. One day I found myself applauding louder at her Glee solos. The next day I found myself smiling at the sight of her and Brittany holding each others pinkie,a simple gesture that belonged only to them and somehow seemed to be a much simple way of saying "Hey,idiot.I love you". And the following day I found myself laughing at one of her jokes,and noticing that those days,they were hardly ever directed against me.  
Thursday that week,after our lesson,she ran out to meet Quinn and Brittany before going to the Glee practice. Sectionals were coming close and today we were supposed to confirm our song list. I knew she was dying to sing a duet with Brittany just as much as I was dying to so with Finn. Santana and I,we were both good at pretending: Pretending we we're not having private lessons with Shelby,pretending were not confused or angry or lonely,pretending we had no nothing to fear we had nothhing to hide. But appearently,none of us had quite managed to pretend we weren't madly in love.  
That's what I was thinking about as I watched their three desesperatingly little-sexy-butts walking to the choir room,and that's when it ocurred to me thah perhaps we weren't so different.  
I had always rensented their precious Unholy Trinity (probably because I had always wanted so bad to be a part of if). Now I realized that they weren't all that bad. Yes,they were cheerleaders,all three of them so hottie and beautiful,but at the end of the day,they were on their to becoming losers just like the rest of us. Maybe there would come a day when they would feel proud of being different although sometimes it hurts,just like me and Kurt and Mercedes and Artie and Tina...and Finn.  
I understood them better now,and I feel guilty that it was partly because I had run into Santana and Brittany making out. But it was also because Quinn and I were kind of friends now.  
She was sitting in the front row that day,with Finn's hand in hers,and I io a little needle scratching my heart. But then I pushed those thoughs aways,reminding myself that my heart was a freaking organ,an organ that pumped blood,and there was no way someone (except maybe a surgeon) could be scratching mine with a needle.  
gave me a pat on the shoulder before I sat down next to Artie,and I wondered if he had realized. He always does. It's his job,he sees things,which is deep and poetic,but ot can also be quite annoying.  
"Well kids" He said with a smile,leaving the board unwritten this time "We'd agreed we would have a solo…" He nodded at me when he said that,and I would be lying if I said I didn't feel flattered "a duet,and a group number".  
We all nodded,and I heard Mercedes whispering to Kurt "Screw Berry if she thinks she's gonna steal the solo from me this time".  
"We still have to decide who will sing the duet and the solo" She said out loud.  
Although they were sitting right behind me,I knew that Santana started holding Brittany´s pinkie even tighter at the word "duet". I smiled a little bit, and it took me by surprise. Could it be possible? I actually wanted them to sing together,to share something with the world that was currently hidden,but was defitnily worth sharing. Everyone wants to believe in wants to believe in love and soulmates and all that crap. Besides,it was the best option. Hearing Finn and Quinn singing would hurt too much. And I wanted it so much I didn't even allowed myself to imagine the possibility of me singing with Finn.  
"We can work on that later" Replied "Now,regarding the group number…I'm all ears,guys".  
"Why don't we write another original song?" Suggested Artie "We killed it last time".  
"That'd be cool" Said Blaine " You did kill us last time".  
"Original song it is!" Announced . "We can starting working on it tomorrow after making up our minds after the solo and the duets"  
I felt tempted to say "Why don't we give Brittany and Santana the duet?", but I knew that if I did,I wouldn't walk out of the room alive. And it was not my job to rush them. They would speak when they were ready. They would be,eventually. They were people. That's one thing we have in common.  
Mr. Shue walked towards the piano bench and took a scrapbook from his backpack. He scribbled on it and flip trough the pages until he found the list he was looking for "Let's see,let's see…Quinn and Rachel!" He said,looking up to us "I'm afraid it's your turn to prepare the customes."  
We exchanged a look.  
"Fair enough" She said with a grin.  
We spent the rest of the period brainstorming and we decided on "Let Me Be Your Star",from the musical "Bombshell" as a solo,but the performer was still to be decided.  
When the bell rang,Quinn let go Finn's hand for a second to come and talk to me (very thoughtful from her).  
"I can pick up a few meters of satin during lunchtime if you want" She told me "We could start working on the costumes today".  
"Yeah" I said,surprised by trhe fact that I was genuinely smiling to her "The sooner we get this done,the better."  
"Ugh,tell me about it".

Later that day,were sitting in the choir room floor,surrounded by meters and meters of red,black and white satin, and two sewing machines.  
"I want them to be all vintage and old-fashioned. " Quinn told me while she cut a long piece of fabric to make a headband "All 60´s".  
"We should make fluffy white skirts and we'll all have that Marilyn Monroe thing going on". I said  
"Genious! Maybe we can even get some funs for the stage floor…" She stopped to look at me with one raised eyebrow "…and wear no underwear".  
"Puck would explode" I replied laughing.  
"And we would save Blaine the job of having to rip all of Kurt's layers of clothes".  
"Yeah,poor little Blainey,that's kind of a complicated task".  
She laughed a little harder. "This is nice,isn't it? The three stages of Glee Club friendships: a duet asked to do the shitty thing no one wants to do together and 3. Using inappropiate sexual humour. I guess we are officially friends now."  
"Indeed,we are".  
She leaned forward to reach a scissor,and just for one second,her sleeve was up and her wrist was uncovered. And in that one second,I saw the line of horizontal scars over it. They seemed long-gone,some were so white you could almosty confuse with her natural unripped skin. But I saw them. And I knew what they were. Self-harming scars are difficult to mistake.  
I hadn't known many self-harmers in my life,but the ones I did know,I realized what they were doing before even seeing their scars. Hiding the phisycal scars is the easy part-what's difficut their feeling. When a person is so hurt inside,you can see it. In their eyes,their voice,their forced laughter. It's impossible not to realize.  
That meant a)Quinn was one hell of an actress b)She had stop doing it a long time ago.  
I didn't want to say anything at first. But well,I'm me,and I couldn't let something like that go. It would haunt me forever.  
"I guess you really meant when you talked about scars the other day" I murmured.  
She stand down straight agan amd quickly pulled down her sleeve,looking pale. Her green eyes were wide-open,and I could tell no one else knew. Maybe not even Santana or Brittany or Finn.  
She looked away and swoalled.  
"They are just scars,Rachel. They stopped bleeding a long time ago."  
"Yeah well,the problem with scars is that they have the power to remind us that the past was real"  
Quinn took a deep breath and brushed the hair away from her face.  
"Does anyone know?" I asked.  
She blinked tears away and shook her head.  
"Why?"  
"Because people aren't exactly cool about this kind of stuff!" She snapped "They would have told me I was stupid,and believe me,I didn't need anymore insults than the ones I whispered to myself".  
I remained silent for a few seconds before saying:  
"I don't think it's stupid"  
She stared at me in disbelief.  
"You don't think ripping your own skin away because you think it will make you feel better is stupid."  
"No. I think hurting someone bad enough to make them feel like they have no choice but to hurt themselves too is stupid."  
Quinn bit her lips until they were almost white.  
"You're only saying it because you feel sorry for me. Save it. I don't need your compassion."  
"Okay,I'll say it if you want: it was stupid. So what? Has it ever ocurred to you that maybe it isn't your fault? That someone out there should be ashamed that he or she is the reason of the scars on someone else's body?"  
Quinn didn't say anything. I guess some questions aren't supposed to be answered.  
"I don't do it anymore and I certainly never will. There's no reason to tell anyone. That part of my life is over,I've moved on,and I would apreciate if you don't make a big deal out of this. Just don't tell anyone,okay?"  
"Of course I won't"  
"Good"  
She went back to her sewing,and I knew the conversation was over and we would never talk about it again.

That night I decided to stay for an extra lesson with Shelby,even though I was exausted and my hands were sore from hours of sewing. I needed someone to talk to,someone who would listen without asking for more information than the one I was willing to give.  
I ran my thingers over the piano keys,wondering how I could start the conversation before starting with all the singing. But then I remember that Shelby was one of those people whom you could simply think outloud with,and I didn't have to worry about her thinking about thinking I was insane because she knew I wasn't.  
"Why do we have this mistaken idea that being a teenager is so cool? I mean,we spend all our childhood looking forward to becoming teenagers and imagining how awesome it will be to go to parties and dating and stuff,and then when we finally get there we realize it sucks most of the time".  
Shelby didn't look surprised,like she was expecting me to say something like that any moment.  
"Rach,for some people is hard to understand that teenagers might be different." She started "As soon as they turn 20,they forget what is like to have those four letters at the end of your age and supposed those years are just about going to parties,dating,meeting people and getting drunk. They forget that from time it gets tough,they forget that thy can be unhappy sometimes."  
That made me think of Santana and Brittany,secretly kissing. Of Kurt,always trying to escape the slushies. Of Mercedes,a few years ago,trying to be skinny so she could fit in with the cheerios. Of Quinn,with scars down her arm. Of Finn,he was so secretly insecure. Of me,and the needle in my heart. We were all a little broken.  
"But that's okay,you know?" She continued. "Because this is it. This os the time to be a mess. This is the time to find yourself and make a lot of trouble while doing it. This is the time to get heartbroken. This is the time to make mistakes and learn from them. This just one more step to finding your place and your peoplein the world. Because after high school comes college and then the beautifully terrifying real world. And you'll find it. You'll find your people and you'll find your place and you'll belong."  
I didn't know what to say. No word seemed right after that,but silence didn't either.  
"I...I guess you're right. I've never though about it that way".  
She smiled. "I'm sure you have. But sometimes we need to hear it from somebody else in order to believe it".  
I nod. It's amazing how a smile and a few words can make you feel so optimistic. Words are the important. The ones we sing and the ones we say and the ones we write. They'rel able to make a difference.  
"Listen,why don't you go home?" Shelby said "It's late and you must be tired. We can practice this tomorrow with Santana"  
I gave her a grateful nod.  
"Yeah...yeah,I would like that"  
"Okay then. Let's go home and get some rest cause I'll have no compassion tomorrow".  
I was smiling while we walked together to the parking lot,I was smiling when we split up to go to our respective cars,I was smiling while I listened to My Chemical Romance on the radio on the way home and I was still smiling when I pulled into our driveway.  
Words. They make a difference.  
The house was quiet and dark when I opened the front door and I wondered if I was the first one to arrive. I hanged my coat and went to the the kitchen,turning the lights while I walked in to find my dad n•1 sitting in the table,with his head between his hands. He didn't bothered to look up when I walked in.  
"Dad?"

"Dad?" I repeated.  
Still no answer.  
"What's the matter? Are you not feeling well?"  
I got closer and touched his arm but he moved it quickly. That was weird. My dad has never avoided carreses or anything like that. In fact,he's the biggest hugger I know.  
"Hey,what about me making dinner tonight?" I asked.  
He didn't answered,but I pretended he had.  
"Okay,I'll start right now".  
I was half-way trough cooking a sofisticated meal of omelettes with some cheese when my dad n•2 arrived.  
"Hello guys" He said cheerfully "That smells good,Rachel".  
My dad n•1 looked up for the first time since I had got home.  
"Go to your room,Rachel" He told me. "Your father and I have to talk about something."  
"I'm in the middle of-" I started.  
"It doesn't matter. Leave it like that."  
"But-"  
"GO TO YOUR ROOM!"  
I left the spoon in the egg bowl and the cheese burning in the frying pan and walked to my room,wondering what the hell was going on with him. He never shouted,not to me and not to anyone.  
But I guess I was wrong,because as soon as I dissapeared upstairs,the real yelling started.  
I opened my door and poked my head,like a 6-year-old,trying to listen. I could only make out a few phrases:  
"How could you this to me?!  
It didn't matter what they were saying. It was not was I worried about. I had never heard neither of their voices sound so angry,so dissapointed,so impotent,so...helpless.  
"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! But I needed someone,and you weren't there!"  
"How could you,how could you..."  
I got back in and closed the door behind me. I had heard enough.  
Silently,I went on with my skin ritual routine with the yelling as my background and  
got into bed,trying to block them out.  
I hid my head under a pillow,but I could still hear them. Fighting and screaming and sounding desesperated.  
"Don't be stupid" I whispered to myself.  
They were grown ups. They would find a way of figuring whatever was their problem out. They had to. They would find a solutiob,and it wasn't my job to worry about their problems...right?  
I was so tired I fell asleep even if the yelling went on for hours at the other side of my bedroom's door,like a broken record.


	8. Chapter 7: I Want To Know What Love Is

Chapter 7: I Want To Know What Love Is  
When I woke up the next morning,my head was still stucked under my pillow. I got up with a severe case of bed-head and the alarm went on for minutes before I turned it off.  
My parents were nowhere to be seen. I walked down the hall and,acting like the grown up girl I was,put my ear against the door,hoping to hear their deep sleeper's breathing.  
There was only a loud,loud silence.  
Every now and then I used to tell myself to stop being such a drama queen. I mean,come on,not everything has to be so tragic. But when I do that,it's usually way too late.  
And I was still hearing the silence.  
"Okay,enough".  
I showered so quickly I didn't even had time to finish a song,and dressed so fast I didn't even have time to pick matching socks and headband. After a sophisticated breakfast of cereal bars and juice I ran out the front door. I didn't dare to shout a goodbye,in case there wasn't anybody to answer it. Or to hear it.  
The silence was friendlier inside the car. It could easily be filled with a CD or the radio or the sound of my own voice finished my shower song.  
When I got to school I realized I had parker besides Santana's car and she was still there,working on her ponytail and her lipstick. I wondered if she was doing it for Brittany,and I glared at her trough our windows.  
I had come to hate those silly teenage girls that wore make up and were all day laughing like idiots and smiling and flipping their hair just to get their crushes to like them. I had tried it and all I reached was embarrasement. Now it just seemed so stupid,the idea of ridiculizing yourself in order to please someone.  
But that was Santana Lopez. She liked being smoking hot and that was no secret. And I bet that even if she showed up with terribly messy hair instead of her perfect (and alarmnily high) ponytail or sweats instead of her uniform,Brittany would've still grinned at her and hold her pinkie anyways.  
I smiled. It was good to know that there were still some people like that.  
Santana opened her door and I did the same. It was a sunny morning,the kind of days everyone calls "beautiful days" just because there are no visible clouds in the sky.  
I followed her to the choir room,always a few meters behind,blt sure if we were close enough to walk around school together yet.  
We walked in to all the Glee Clubers singing and dancing to "Don't You Forget About Me" by Simple minds.  
Finn tripped over his own feet and Quinn caught him laughing.  
"Why so cheerful?" I asked.  
"Seriously guys,if you don't stop smiling like idiots I'm gonna punch all in the face" Santana said.  
"Well ladies,rumour has it the one and only Ms. Holly Holliday is having a triunfal comeback to our club". Puck told her,without looking up from hee guitar".  
"No way"  
If there was one thing we all agreed with,is that we loved Holly. If there was more people like her,maybe high school wouldn't suck so much. She was fun,carefree,creative. Pretty much what every student wanted for a teacher.  
"Damn right I am,Sweet Cheeks!" Holly scream as she slided trough the door,followed by Mr. Shue (who was walking). "You even buttered. the floor me! Isn't that cute"  
"Why are both here? I mean,aren't you supposed to be the sustitute teacher?" Asked Puck.  
"Oh come on Pucky,don't go all tough boy with me. I know you're happy to see Auntie Holly".  
Puck smiled a little and went back to his guitar strings.  
"So,Miss H" Said Artie "I guess you're here for an assigment Mr. Shue couldn't handle by himself".  
"Brilliant conclusion"  
Holly sat on the piano and started balancing her legs.  
"So,even though Will's teaching skill are almost as goof as mine -although let's admit,they aren't- he asked me if I could help him with a subject I know a lot about. And no,it's not sex again,so take that excited puppy eyes out of your faces".  
She jumped down and scribbled on the board "LGTB"  
I stopped myself from looking at Santana.  
"I suppose you all nod what this means".  
There were a few nods around the room.  
"Great" Holly said with a smile. "This is the part where I say what Will here didn't have the balls to say: I know we have an openly gay couple here,but I also now we have other LGTB,or technically just LGB people here. And no,don't give me that look guys. I'm a gay-dar. I can tell it just by the way you breath. But never mind,because even if we are all in a room we're every single solitary person is a crazy freak,what we are trying to encourage is acceptance.  
The only way to make people start accepting the LGTB community is to stop comparing it with traditional customs. To stop calling them 'lesbians' and start calling them girls. To stop calling them 'gay couples' and just call them couples. So,all the LGB people in this room are going to sing love songs. Not lesbian or gay love songs. Just regular old love songs. Understood?"  
That's what I like about Holly. She didn't stutter,she didn't mess around,she didn't lose time. She was straight forward. If there was something that needed to be said,she would said. Because she knew that life is too short to ignore important things,or God forbids,to expect them to be gone with time.  
"Understood". We answered.  
"Terrific,fellows" Holly claped and flip her blond hair when she turned to "You're welcome,honey.  
So,kids,we have another period this afternoon...which means you have all the morning and lunch time to prepare a kick-ass performance".  
"Until lunch time? Just that?" Brittany sounded astonished. She certainly had a lot to prepare,a lot to sing,and a lot to say.  
"Well it isn't much of an espontanous and passionatione declaration of love if you have to think so much about it,is it,pompons?"

I tried to give my friends privacy during the hole morning,but at lunchtime,when I saw Brittany standing up and storming out of the cafeteria,leaving Santana alone with her untouched meal,I couldn't helo myself. I walked over her table and set my trat next to her.  
"What was that about?"  
No answer. What is it with the people in my life that were so inclined to pretend they weren't listening?  
"Hey...what are you thinking about that it's taking you so long to reply"  
"Nothing" She told me. "I'm just ignoring you".  
I shook my head a little. "Tana..."  
"No!" She snapped,furiously putting down her form. "Don't 'Tana' me,okay?! You don't get to talk now. You don't get to give your opinion. As if you had any idea of what this is like."  
I stared into her eyes. "You're right. I can't pretend I've been trough what you're going trough. But I can imagine it. And I'm better at understanding people than you think"  
And it was true. Maybe I wasn't likeable. Maybe I wasn't specially kind,or specially selfless or specially cheerful. Maybe I didn't do so well with people in general. But I sure understood them,and their feelings. I was raised to spend the rest of my life in the musical theatre bussinnes,and theatre is about feelings.  
Santana didn't answer,so I continued.  
"You know we lived in screwed-up society. And unfortunaly,time is not gonna change that. This is the Glee Club we're talking about. No one is going to be as harsh as your with yourself. What's the difference between telling them now or telling them in 10 years? In this scenario,waiting is useless."  
Perhaps that was a little hard,but I knew Santana was no weak girl. She could handle the truth. Still,her lip was trembling a little when she finally spoke.  
"But it's fustrating. This whole bunch of years. People treat you like a kid but expect you to act like an adult. You're too old for half of the things you want to do and too young for the other half. It's hard enough enough to be a teenager,let alone a closet lesbian teenager".  
I sighed,relieved that she had finally let her guard down.  
"Yeah,but that's not the point" I told her. "People are going to judge no matter what,and you have 2 options: a) Transform yourself in order to please them or b) decide not to care. And we both know Santana Lopez,born and raised Lima Heights,is way to badass for option B".  
"Someone's philosophic today..  
"Hush." I put my hands on her mouth "Listen to the words of wisdom: Tell them to go fuck themselves and be whatever you want to be".  
"Dude,that's deep". She grinned.  
"I'm aware. So now you and I are going to follow Brittany,well just you actually,I'm gonna supervise,and you're gonna pick a duet and you're gonna stand infront all your fellow losers and you're gonna sing to us and have all that gay-yay-rainbow thing going on. Okay?"  
Santana bit her lip to supress a smile.  
"Okay."  
We got up and walked out of the cafeteria,together this time. Just in time we saw Brittany's blonde ponytail dissapairing behind the ladies bathroom's door.  
"Go het her. Not in the dirty way...yet"  
She turned to me,unsure.  
"Rachel..."  
"That's it,say my name. It's a good practice if you remember to change it for Brittany when the time comes,cause she won't be too happy if you shout another girl's name during..."  
"Seriously,Berry."  
"...uh,that's even hotter. Come on,who opened your eyes to the truth today? Say it! Say it!"  
"If I could have a dolar for every person that turned their head to look at you during the last 20 seconds-"  
"You would have enough money to pay for the theraphy I obviously need." I cut her off  
She was still laughing when I pushed her into the bathroom.

Brittany and Santana were already there when we all entered the choir room.  
Holly smiled towards them.  
"Guess you want to start,ladies?"  
Santana gave her a slight nod.  
"Okay then,I can help you".  
In her way to sit behind the piano,Holly stopped to put a hand on Santana's shoulder.  
"This is the part where I pretend to be surprised" She whispered,loud enough for me to hear it. Santana broke her serious expression into the most nervous laughter.  
Brittany handed a music sheet to Holly,who grinned and started to play the intro to a song I knew very well.  
Surpringsinly,Santana looked for me to give her the last encouraging nod se needed before their duet started.

Santana:  
"I've gotta take a little time  
A little time to think things over  
I better read between the lines  
In case I need it when I'm older  
Oh,this mountain I must climb  
Feels like the world upon my shoulders  
But trough the clouds I see love shine  
It keeps me warm as light grows colder"

Brittany:  
"In my life there's been heartache and pain  
I don't know if I can face it again"  
Santana:  
"Can't stop now,I've travelled so far  
To change this lonely life".

Britanny and Santana:  
"I want to know what love is  
I want you to show me  
I want to feel what love is  
I know you can show me"

Brittany:  
"I'm gonna take a little time  
A little time to look around me  
I have nowhere left to hide"

Santana:  
"It looks like love has finally found me"

Brittany:  
"In my life there's been heartache and pain  
I don't know if I can face it again  
Can't stop now,I've travelled so far"

Santana:  
"To change this lonely life..."

Britanny and Santana:  
"I want to know what love is  
I want you to show me  
I want to feel what love is  
Yeah,I know you can show me"

Santana:  
"I want to know what love is  
I want to know,I want to know  
And I know you will show me"

Then something amazing happened. Something that made me remember why I had chosen the Glee club in the first place. All of a sudden,without any kind of agreement,we all joined in for the last chorus. I realized there would be no need to say anything after. That action spoke for itself. We didn't need to say anything. Because we all knew what joining our voices for their duet meant:  
It was okay. We were okay with them. We were more than okay.

All of us:  
"I want to feel what love is  
I want to know what love is  
I want you to show me  
I want to know what love is..."

Brittany:  
"Cause I've travelled so far  
So let's talk about love  
The love that you feel inside"

Brittany and Santana:  
"I know you can show me  
Now it's the right time  
I want you to show me  
Because you know what love is..."

There was a moment of silence in the room after Holly softly hit the last notes. Because what was to follow that? A declaration of love,an act of bravery. What could be said afterwards,that sounded as big as the duet and the piano and our voices?  
"You're going to sing that,right? At sectionals?" Tina asked.  
Brittany and Holly exchanged a look.  
"Wow wow,stop right there Teresa Teng" Said Santana "One thing is to sing infront of you,freak shows who all have dark and sometimes creepy secrets to hide,and another thing is to sing infront of the whole school and our parents in the audience."  
Holly frowned "Do you seriously believe that the rest of the school cares enough to go to your show choir competition? I don't."  
"And what if they did? You're gonna sing that duet. I'm not asking. You two have a story to tell,and wether you like it or not,such a powerful can only stay hidden for so long. Holly's right. No one from school will be there,and you've got to tell your parents eventually. As far as I'm concerned,there's no better way to tell them." Declared .  
Santana rolled her eyes. "Oh,please. My dad is a doctor. Do you think he'd go along with our sing-what-you-feel nonsense?"  
"But Tana...do you have any better plan?" Said Brittany. "It might be ridiculous,but it's his DAUGHTERS ridiculousness. If he doesn't like it,I'm sorry,but who needs him?"  
"I need him,Brittany!" She snapped "He is my father,he is my family. He's the one who gave me a roof live under,the one who gave me food and a warm bed to sleep in and dry clothes and the possibility of having an education. The one that has done nothing but support my entire life."  
Brittany remained calmed and serious. "If he was able to give you all that,then he should be able to give his acceptance."  
"She has a point." Said Artie "Besides,if you're not doing it for yourself,do it for the sake of the team. No one in this room could sing such a kick-ass duet."  
Ouch. That hurted.  
Santana glared at him "If you think you're going talk me into suddenly coming out of the closet in order for you to get a cute little shiny trophie by flattering me,you are dead wrong."  
"You don't have to come out to them during the song" He continued "You can tell them before the show and make the duet a sort of...emphatisyng factor".  
Santana pursed her lips for what seemed like an eternity.  
"...alright. But I have a condition."  
"What is it?" Asked .  
"Berry gets the solo..."  
I looked up,so surprised I almost didn't hear Mercedes shouting "OH,HELL TO THE NO!".  
Santana closed her eyes in annoyance. "My Goodness,Aretha,if you had let me finish,you would have heard the second part of my condition,which was to let YOU get every single solitary solo for what's left of the year."  
Poor Mercedes,she look as shocked at me. Who would've said Snixxx would be so noble.  
Mr. Shue nodded towards his shoes. "Fair enough".  
The bell rang,but we all took a moment before walking out into real life again,before walking out of the place where a girl had just made the most important decision of her life.  
When everyone was out,there were just me and Santana. She was leaning against the piano,with her head on her arms. I walked towards her and put my hand on her shoulder.  
"Thanks for that".  
"No,dwarf. Thank you".

"Damn it!"  
I hit the steering wheel in frustation. Heavy raindrops were hitting the roof and just in that moment,my beloved car decided to break down.  
"Come on,baby,You can do it! You're a Berry! We DO NOT fail and we DO NOT quit!"  
I jumped in my seat when I heard someone knocking the window. I rolled it down to a soaked Puck.  
"Need a ride?" He grinned.  
"Yes please".  
I decided to leave the untruthful traitor alone and ran to Puck's car. It wasn't until I was comfortably sitting in the passenger seat,trying to fix a bit of the mess the storm had done with my hair,that I realized there was someone sitting on the back seat. And,knowing my luck,it didn't surprise me to see that that someone was no other than Finn Hudson.  
"Hiya,Rach." He said,with a smile so big it urged me to punch in order to break it. "I told Puck we should do our good action of the day and help the crazy chick who was shouting at her car".  
"I regret to tell you that you owed it to the crazy chick." I answered. "You're the one who throw himself at her. You broke her."  
He frowned. "Her?"  
"Sybil".  
"Oh My God,you named your car Sybil?"  
Puck turned to me "Don't worry Rach,that's coming from someone who named his dick Thunderstick".  
I threw my head back laughing and it felt almost as good as punching him would have "Well isn't that some precious piece of information."  
"So,what do you guys think about our most recent Glee-Lesbians drama?" Asked Finn.  
"I'll pretend that you didn't just show your ability to change subject remarkably fast" I said "And I'll tell you that I think they're doing the right thing."  
"Yeah,me too. It makes want to something as brave as that." He said.  
"Awwww,Little Finny has gone sweet" Puck turned around to squeeze his cheek. He pushed his hand away.  
"Seriously,dude. Doesn't it make you want to be better?"  
"You mean...a better singer?" I inquired.  
"Partly" He admitted.  
"Oh,you're such a sweetheart. Isn't he the cutest,Puck?"  
"I bet he is". He agreed "I wondered how could Quinn stand you... But now I know you're a real darling,dude."  
"Ha,ha,ha. Hilarious. I don't care about what you say,Brittany and Santana inspired and I'm not ashamed of it."  
"Do you mean you're a closet lesbian too?" Puck raised his eyebrows in exagerated surprised.  
I gasped "I knew it!"  
"Seriously,you're getting funnier every passing second. Friendly reminder that you are Glee losers too,and even though you're having the time of your lives teasing me,you know you believe that everyone should be allowed to be whoever they want to be."  
"For further information about Finn Hudson's Saving Humanity Movement,please call 973512..." I said.  
"Monsters. You're monsters."  
Puck winked at me. "So we've been told."  
By that time we were already driving down my street,and I wasn't particulary looking forward to go home.  
"I'm afraid this is your stop,Miss Berry." Said Puck.  
I smiled at him and unblucked my seat belt. "Thanks for the ride."  
"Anytime."  
"Okay. See you and Thunderstick tomorrow?".  
"See you" He grinned.  
I turned around to see their car turning the corner and smiled to myself. Finn was right. I did believe in those words. But sometimes it was too hard. Sometimes I needed to play the tough. If I always allowed myself to hopeful and optimistic,I would except too much,and too good. And that couldn't happen,because there are only a few things worse than living with a false hope,but I don't know many of them.  
That was what I was thinking when I entered my house,that hadn't change since I left it that morning. The curtains hadn't been opened,the floor hadn't been swept, the kitchen hadn't been used. It had never ocurred to me that my house would stop looking like a home.  
My dad n•2 was sitting on the couch,staring at the wall,but without looking at anything. I though about going straight to my room a pretend I hadn't seen him. But then I took a deep breath and went to seat beside him. I was brave. And my dad needed someone brave beside him,whatever was happening.  
"Hey dad. Have you been here all day?"  
He shook his head. "I've just arrived."  
"So where were you before?"  
"I...I was looking for your father."  
"Oh. And did you find him?"  
He gave me the saddest smile I had ever seen. "I'm afraid not,sweetie."  
I bit my lip. "I see. Can I ask you a question?"  
He nodded.  
"Why did you cheat on him?"  
To my surprise,he didn't even try to deny it "Because we were distant...and I was lonely."  
I knew about that. Lonelinnes can play cruel tricks on people.  
"But the thing is,Rachel" He continued "That just like the ones we love the most are the ones who hurt us the most,the ones we love the most are the ones we'll hurt the most."  
A tear traced its way down my cheek,and I whipped fast so he wouldn't see it. "I know that. I'm not 12 anymore. I know that love isn't always a positive thing."  
My dad stared at his hands. "Do you think he'll ever be able to forgive me?"  
I knew my other dad as the back of my hand. If there was thing he couldn't forgive,that was betrayal. The dad sitting beside me knew that too. Maybe he just wanted someone to deny it. I though about lying and giving him what he wanted. But then I decided not to,because there are only a few things harder than living with a false hope,but I don' t know many of them.  
"No. He won't."  
He started crying,and I almost felt guilty.  
"And you? Will you forgive me?"  
I wanted to lie again. He was sad and shocked and he only wanted her daughter's comfort. But I wasn't the kind of person who gave away undeserved things.  
"I won't forgive you. You broke what was once a happy home. It wasn't perfect,but that was okay,because happinnes has nothing to do with perfection. I won't forgive you because you've changed,and I've changed,and things will never be the same again,and I needed at least one thing to stay the same,I needed at least one thing that remained. I won't forgive you because I'm gonna miss my dad. I won't forgive you because the worst words are the one we didn't get to say,and that's it,I'll never be able to say my goodbyes to him. I'm not gonna forgive you because  
even though I'm sitting in my own living room,I feel homesick. And it's your fault."  
The sobbing grew louder,and I stormed off the room.  
Why did everyone think that theu could break whatever they wanted and I would be there to pick up the pieces? I wasn't. Not this time. Not anymore.  
If my dad wanted a savior,he had to be his own.  
Because that's the ugly truth I had learnt: You can trust no one but yourself. 


End file.
